


gasoline

by obscurityofphylum



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dave’s Childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23582905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscurityofphylum/pseuds/obscurityofphylum
Summary: dave katz never had it easy.
Kudos: 6





	gasoline

may 13, 1995. 

dave was six years old when the accident happened.

his father, drooling like a doberman over his glass of whiskey, was hurtling obscenities. nothing new. his mother drew back, just as vicious, like a snake ready to pounce. dave just watched from the kitchen doorway, his heart racing like a hare in his chest.

dave's parents had been fighting more since danny left for the army. all dave remembers of that day was a duffel bag slung over his big brother's shoulder as he got on a bus on the other side of town. james and thomas were both waiting until they were old enough (or looked old enough) to join the army. his little sister, minnie, was only two years younger than him. 

and, of course, dave was left to fend for himself, barely six, not young enough to be protected but not old enough to protect himself. his father's drunken, bloodshot eyes landed on him, and he knew what would happen next. 

"what are you looking at, you fucking freak?" he slurred, his footsteps heavy on the kitchen tiles. the glass dropped from his hand, shattering on the floor. dave jumped from the sudden noise, hands instinctively moving to cover his face. and for good reason. busted knuckles met his cheek, leaving his ears ringing and his mouth tasting like metal. 

"go upstairs. now." the man yelled, and dave's feet couldn't move fast enough. he was about to go back and grab minnie so he could put her to bed, but he heard the yelling begin again. he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, listening.

"you go too! you little brat! now!" 

dave heard a horrifying shriek. he turned back around, looking just as his father struck minnie for a second time. without thinking, he raced in front of her, taking the force of the third hit directly to his face. his nose gave a terrifying crack and began to spill blood. 

"you little bastard..." his father snarled, spit flying from his mouth. dave backed up, minnie cowering behind him. 

"don't h-hurt her." dave said, his voice quivering with fear as he tried to be strong. his eyes darkened, and his chest hurt like someone had just dropped a weight on him. 

and then it dropped. a rapid, engulfing flame began dancing through the living room, igniting fabric couches and wooden side tables and burning holes in the crumbling drywall. dave was vaguely aware of the heat against his skin, the sweat pooling on his brow, as the flames licked at his father's skin. his father screamed, flailing as his skin was caught in the tide of scorching light. 

he didn't remember anything after that. not until nearly fifteen minutes later, when he woke up to sirens. he was vaguely aware that he was laying on the floor, but why wasn't he getting burned? 

he had to go. they'd surely know he did this. he didn't know how else it'd happen. 

with shaking legs and even shakier breathing, he tore his way through the ravaged house, avoiding each splintered wooden beam as it lost support and came crashing down, landing with a thud that only igniting more flames.

he practically tore open the screen door with his nails, and ran with legs flying behind him. he looked back just as his childhood home's top floor fell, leaving nothing but ash and ember waiting to be engulfed by fire.

dave didn't have a chance to look back in front of him again, because he was caught in strange arms. he screamed, still running midair. the arms didn't let go, tightening around him. 

"god, is he from the house? how's he not burnt?" dave heard a voice say, yelling to make themselves heard above the sirens.

"no clue. he's beat up though, i'm gonna get the poor thing to the truck." the person holding him said, peering down at dave, observing the black eye and the nose that lay crooked and crusted with dry blood. 

dave lost track of time again, this time waking to a thin blanket being draped around his shoulders. he winced and grimaced at a bright light pointed straight into his eyes, and for a second he wondered if he had died. maybe it would've been better that way.

the light faded as the owner put the flashlight back in his pocket. dave must've looked confused, because the man started to speak softly.

"hey, buddy. my name's jack. what's yours?" he asked. dave said nothing. instead, he shrugged the blanket off of his shoulders in an attempt to get up, only to be held down by his arms by the man named jack. dave resisted the urge to scream, swallowing air hard.

"christ. he's in shock. let's take him down to the station." jack said to a woman who had walked up next to him. 

"where's my family!?" dave screamed suddenly, his voice high-pitched and panicked. jack's eyes softened.

"i'm sorry buddy, you were the only one who made it out." 

july 15, 2005. 

dave woke up around noon, stretching as much as the group home bunk beds allowed. he smoothed his blond hair out with a bruised hand, flicking open the window latches with ease.

he climbed out onto the slanted roof with surprising grace for his height, legs dangling over the edge as he fingered a cigarette from his carton and lit it, inhaling the smoke and letting it resonate deep in his lungs before blowing out grey, billowing clouds.

today's the day. his bag was already packed. clothes, a birth certificate he had gotten someone to forge. he had to beg and spend a month's worth of pay from work to get someone to do it for him, but finally, in the bottom of his bag, lay a paper that read 1987 instead of 1989, making him old enough to enlist.

he hadn't talked to danny since the accident. danny hadn't even come to the funeral. dave didn't even remember much of his oldest brother anymore, and he thought it was probably better that way. he didn't want to hurt anyone else.

he sighed, grinding the embers of his finished cigarette into the stone roof. he subconsciously checked it twice, to make sure every last bit of flame was still out. force of habit.

he brushed his teeth and splashed some water on his face, sparing a glance in the mirror. wavy blonde hair, dull blue eyes and a slightly crooked nose stared back at him. 

dave slung his bag over his shoulder, not even caring to make his bed. he didn't live there anymore. not with the 30 something other teenage boys, all orphans, none pitied. he'd done his time, and he was ready to leave. to be an adult when all his life he had been treated like a broken child. 

as foolish as it sounded, he thought that he'd miss it a little bit. staying up until late with the younger boys, telling stories to coax their nightmares back into hiding. sharing pieces of food and scraps when he could, just because he knew the gnawing hunger that persisted even when there wasn't enough food to go around. he did it because he knew it was what he would've wanted when he was younger. 

he had nightmares that he woke up screaming from every single night until he was 13. he never got comfort, just older kids telling him to shut up, or threatening to sew his mouth shut with needle and thread. still, to this day, he grimaced at the sight of needles. 

but things changed. when he was thirteen, he got into his first fight. the older boys were beating up a dog that was chained to a lamp post. dave threw the first punch, and left with a broken arm amongst other injuries. he knew he deserved it. but he'd do it a million times over just so he could see the thankful look in the dog's eyes when he unchained it after the boys left and it limped away into the safety of an alley. 

he had to leave the group home because of it. he had packed his stuff with tears running down his swollen, bloody cheeks. 

nobody stood up for him. 

since then, he'd been in more than a few. standing up for the ones who couldn't protect themselves. 

he was snapped out of his thoughts by the booming voice of mrs. howard. dave grimaced, turning back to face her. she was a stout woman who'd been director of the boy's home for as long as he could remember. 

"and where do you think you're going?" she asked pointedly, lowering her glasses which were kept on a silver chain. he shook his head.

"i'm leaving." dave answered shortly, hoping it would be the end of the conversation, he turned back to leave. 

"i'm sorry, you're not eighteen yet. you can leave when you're eighteen, david." dave winced at his full name. he swallowed hard, turning to face her again.

"i'm leaving. today." dave said, his voice firm. he knew he could pass for eighteen. a slight stubble was forming on his chin, and he was no longer the boy he was at the accident: now he was strong. 

"i'm afraid i can't let that happen. please reconsider, or i will have to stop you." she said. dave took a deep breath. he could feel it coming. washing over him like sun after a hurricane, an awkward yellow hue to the sky, the taste of metal and the drumming of his heartbeat, thundering in his chest. the perfect storm. 

dave was about to stomp out the door when she spoke again.

"please stay, for your sister. she'd want you to be safe-" 

"don't talk about minnie." dave yelled, and the lightning in his chest crackled. he felt the swelling in his lungs again. he inhaled a much-needed breath of air shakily. you can't lose control again. don't lose your temper. 

"you need to stop running from your problems. you must understand that you failed her, and there's nothing you could do. but you have to make it up to her by making wise decisions. one of which," her tongue clicked annoyingly, "would be staying at pine grove." she said, folding her hands over her chest.

"i didn't fail her." dave muttered.

"oh, but you did. you'd have no luck in town. you know every local remembers what happened ten years ago. they think you started it and let the house burn, that you're some monster. and i'm inclined to believe them." her voice was icy cold.

"i'm not a monster! i was a child!" dave screamed, his fists pounding against the wooden desk mrs. howard sat behind, rage filling every crevice of his ribs. he could feel it, bubbling to a head, the point of the arrow waiting to drive into the target. 

dave shook his head, dislodging tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes while he wasn't paying attention. his footsteps were heavy as he practically sprinted out the front door and into the street. 

he was suddenly six years old again, bare feet plundering the wet grass with each hurtling bound away from the burning structure. except this time, nothing was burning, and no arms were there to catch him.

he walked for what seemed like hours, finally ducking into an alley. dave slid down the stone wall, ignoring the pointed stones that dug into his back as he crouched. his head sunk into his hands, and he rubbed the tears from his eyes until they were red and his vision was blurry. he couldn't be weak, not at a time like this. men don't cry. 

when he finally looked up, he noticed a figure climbing out of one of the base-level windows that led into the alleyway. he tensed up, ready to run, fists clenching involuntarily. the figure dropped to the ground, making a soft thud. he was a boy, curly-haired and about the same age as dave from the looks of it. 

dave didn't notice that the boy was staring straight back at him until the boy waved a hand that had the word hello printed on it in big letters.


End file.
